


Far From Nothing

by alestar



Category: Naruto
Genre: Chapter 700, Daddy Sasuke, F/M, Gen, M/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-24 19:40:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2593907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alestar/pseuds/alestar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SPOILERS for Chapter 700 of <i>Naruto</i>.  Graphic sex, cursing, no violence.  The pacing is kind of fucked, but it was written in a hurry and amid the Ch. 700 aftermath and with much love for #teamsevenweek.  Prompt: <i>rebirth</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. SASUKE

**Author's Note:**

> > Get over  
>  "getting over": dark clouds don’t fade
>> 
>> but drift with ever deeper colors.  
> Give up on rooted happiness
>> 
>> (the stolid trees on fire!) and sweet reprieve....
>> 
>> Meanwhile, meanwhile’s far from nothing:  
> the humming moment, the rustle of cherry trees.
>> 
>>  
>> 
>> \-- Rachel Wetzsteon, _Sakura Park_  
> 

 

Sasuke is in and out of Konoha, and one day he arrives to find almost everyone pregnant.

Naruto's wife, of course, he knew about-- he attended the wedding, standing with Sakura and the Rokudaime by his side. But Sakura lists off a dozen names of soon-to-be parents. It makes sense that there would be a frenzy of coupling after wartime-- rebuilding populations, affirming life-- but Sakura volunteers the information with a quietude that makes him stare at her until she sighs, scrubbing a hand through her hair.

They are sitting in her apartment drinking tea.

Sakura asks, "What are your plans?"

He does not really have any plans. In the last few years he's realized he gets into less trouble when he hasn't decided ahead of time what his goals are. He travels widely-- sometimes righting wrongs; sometimes helping out the small rabble of friends he's made outside the village; sometimes working for actual pay; sometimes studying; sometimes seeking out the ostensibly wise people of the world, bending his tensai mind to just be quiet and listen.

"I don't know," he says.

"Okay. Well…" Sakura nervously turns the tea cup in her hands. "With all these births, it's almost like part of the reconstruction. People are building new lives."

Sasuke frowns. "What's wrong?"

Sakura huffs a laugh.

Sasuke doesn't suffer fools, and he doesn't like preamble. And Sasuke managed to set the bar for good behavior pretty low; so long as he isn't murdering people, he knows, in his friends' eyes his vices have largely ceased to be anything but endearing.

"Do you remember our first day as Team 7?" she asks. "When Kakashi made us all say what our dreams were?"

Sasuke nods. He remembers it in vivid detail, but he doesn't often think about it. It hurts to remember those early days; it's far easier, actually, to focus on the moments of deep trauma-- his parents' death, his time with Otogakure, his actions after leaving the village.

"Do you remember what you said your dream was?"

"To kill Itachi," says Sasuke. "And to rebuild my clan."

"And Naruto's was to become Hokage, and mine was-- you."

Sasuke's eyebrows draw together. He still doesn't understand that. But he nods.

"One of those things has happened, and Naruto becoming Hokage is pretty much inevitable-- he's already training with Kaka-sensei. That only leaves two ambitions left."

Sakura watches his face as Sasuke realizes what she's saying.

He leans back in his chair and brings his tea cup to his mouth. They drink their tea together in silence for a minute. Then Sasuke rests his cup back on the table. "I'm sorry, Sakura." He doesn't know how to give her what she wants.

"Don't misunderstand," says Sakura. She releases a long breath. "I'm not asking you for anything, except this." Her eyes meet Sasuke's. Her face flushes, but she pushes ahead. "You owe it to yourself and the village to continue the Uchiha line, and I can help you do that."

It seems like the worst possible way to repay Sakura's devotion and forgiveness

"Is that what you want?" he asks. "You want to be my vessel?"

He tries to keep his voice neutral, but he can tell from Sakura's answering expression that the distaste is there. It makes him think of Kimimaro; someone who becomes a body.

Sakura watches him, face full of sympathy and wry affection. The look of pity would make him angry-- usually makes him angry-- but Sakura has a free pass where Sasuke is concerned. She has earned the right to say anything to him.

"That's not how I see it, I guess," she says gently. "And I don't think that's how you would see it."

They sit in silence for another long moment.

Sasuke swallows. He has always thought abstractly that he would continue the Uchiha line, but it seemed distant, impossible, a whole removed lifetime away, and maybe he would die before it happened. And maybe it would be good if he died before it happened.

"I want a baby," says Sakura.

Sasuke lowers his head. The seconds tick by. Eventually, he says, "I don't know how to be a father."

Sakura smiles at that. "You're familiar with the basic mechanics, right?"

Sasuke rolls his eyes upward, glowering at her.

Sakura reaches across the table and rests a hand on his arm. "I can handle the rest."

 

\--

 

They sleep together four times in three months before the timing works out and Sakura conceives. Sasuke stays in the village during that time, taking the opportunity to put the Uchiha clan holdings in order and oversee renovations to the largely abandoned Uchiha compound.

He spends a lot of time with Naruto, though he doesn't explain why he's staying so long; he doesn't think Sakura explains, either, because the time he and Naruto spend together is mostly Naruto leaning over his knees, head in his hands, sick with worry, talking about how he isn't ready to be a parent.

The first time is a Tuesday evening when Sakura isn't scheduled to work. She and Sasuke have dinner together at a restaurant and Sakura drinks sake-- ostensibly, she claims, because she might not have another opportunity for nine months, but probably to calm her nerves. Afterwards, they go back to Sakura's apartment, and they sit on the edge of Sakura's bed while Sasuke kisses her. At the beginning, her hands shake.

They undress each other with their foreheads leaned together, Sasuke's eyes cast downward. His hand runs gently over Sakura's left shoulder, left arm, left breast, her waist. Then Sasuke lies back on the bed and Sakura works him with her hand; she supports her weight with her other hand on the bedspread, and Sasuke's fingers ghost anxiously over hers.

Sakura tells him he's beautiful. Sasuke squeezes her forearm penitently and wonders if this is what she has wanted and, if so, how long she has wanted it.

Sasuke, meanwhile, has been distracted his whole life-- even before he came to realize the vital importance of other people, he was too heavy with memories for his thoughts to move in those directions. He doesn't know how to want what Sakura wants. And what he understands about _desperate_ love, he has admitted to himself, is wrapped around memories of Naruto.

But he does love her. When she straddles him and lowers herself onto him, he curls his one arm around her neck and pulls her close. He holds her there while she rides him, kissing her open mouth.

When her movements become faster, more focused, when her fist clenches around the pillow next to Sasuke's head, she rears back and looks at Sasuke. Their eyes meet, and Sasuke thinks that Sakura has never looked more beautiful than with her face dark with pleasure-- her eyebrows drawn together, mouth drawn in almost a grimace, the line of her teeth visible in the dimness. Somewhere in his history, he realizes-- possibly since birth-- he conflated love and battle so deeply that now he can only admire what looks like violence. He watches in wonder as Sakura's eyes close and she comes.

Then he pulls her forward again, burying his face in her hair. He uses his one hand to guide her hips up and down. He breathes through his nose, pistoning his hips. He can feel her pull back slightly to watch him, but his eyes are squeezed shut. She presses kisses to his face, along his jaw, breathing heavily-- and after a few minutes his face clenches and he comes.

She rests against his chest, after, bowed over him, both of them taking deep breaths. Sasuke strokes her naked back. His hand comes to rest curled loosely around her bicep.

They lie like that for a long time, Sasuke still inside her.

Eventually, Sakura laughs. The sound is muffled against Sasuke's shoulder. "Number-one rookie," she says.

Sasuke smirks and tenderly touches the back of her head.

 

\--

 

They marry, officially, before Sakura's pregnancy is announced. They arrive separately at the administrative office, and it is the first and only time Sasuke meets Sakura's father.

The older man has hair several shades darker than Sakura's, plum-colored, pulled into a thick braid. He has the softly rounded belly of a retired shinobi. Sasuke bows deeply to him, but Haruno doesn't meet his eyes. He watches his daughter, face full of love.

Over the years, he has presumably watched Sakura leave on one S-rank mission after another-- he would have known the possibilities when he allowed her to attend the Academy in the first place-- and somehow he has become a master of holding on and letting go, of guidance and acceptance. Sasuke thinks that if things were different, this is someone who could have taught him how to be a parent.

Sasuke and Sakura sign a scroll, and Sasuke kisses her on the mouth, his hand clasped around one of hers. He turns and bows again to Haruno, who returns the gesture. And that's it. Sakura keeps her surname, but all Uchiha properties-- though diminished after Sasuke's defection and Pain's demolition-- pass to her and her unborn child.

Sakura leaves the office with her father and Sasuke wanders back to Kakashi's old apartment, hands in his pockets, to pack.

 

\--

 

After that, Sasuke sends a hawk summons to Konoha every month in case of correspondence. He knows enough about fatherhood to know that he should be, at the very least, an emergency contact.

To his surprise, the first letter he receives is from Naruto. He expects anger-- his exploitation of Sakura, his subsequent abandonment (again), his dogged refusal to behave like a normal person-- but the letter is full of innocent updates. Naruto has a son now, and his wife is recovering well. Sakura isn't showing yet. Naruto includes a good-natured jab about Sasuke saddling him with a pregnant woman who is 200 times weirder and more violent than his own wife, but that's all he says about Sasuke not being around. Sasuke wonders what Sakura said to him-- or if Naruto has his own understanding of Sasuke's life and heart.

The letter closes with a simple statement of Naruto's love. At the bottom of the page below Naruto's signature is a childlike drawing of Team 7 surrounded by babies. Sasuke seals the letter into a scroll-- where he begins to keep all subsequent letters, photos and keepsakes-- for safe storage.

 

\--

 

He gets another letter, this one from Sakura, when the baby is born. There is a photo of Sakura holding a red, mottled bundle with dark hair. Sakura is in a hospital gown, and she looks pale and exhausted but happy. The picture is just of the two of them, but Sasuke can see a woman's hand resting on Sakura's shoulder.

His child is a girl. Sakura gave her the Uchiha surname, and he is grateful for that. He has a daughter. He is a father. He doesn't know why he expected a son, but he is surprised at the relief he feels.

He's surprised at the name, too, but he supposes it would be hard to grow up aloof and solemn and obsessive with a name like Salad, so he likes it.

 

\--

 

When Sasuke returns to the Konoha again, his daughter is two years old. He has a romance novel for Kakashi, a stupid frog figurine for Naruto and a pouch of medical scrolls for Sakura. He doesn’t know what a two-year-old would need or want, but he brings her mother a note for 90,000 ryo.

He goes to the largest house in the Uchiha compound; he knows it's occupied because the veranda is crowded with healthy potted plants. There are two pairs of muddy rain boots at the bottom of the front steps, both pairs pink and one of them tiny.

Sasuke knocks on the door. After a minute, Sakura answers, looking startled but smiling broadly.

She lets him in, and he toes off his sandals in the foyer of the house he grew up in.

She leads him to the living room, and he's surprised how different it looks: it's full of bright colors and almost cluttered; there are rows of bookcases and various toys on the floor. There's a pile of towels on the sofa where Sakura was, presumably, preparing to fold them. There is a baby on the living room floor, inside a cushioned pen, lying on its belly and chewing a plastic ring.

He doesn't know much about children, but he knows Salad should be older than that.

"Wow, welcome back," says Sakura. She takes Sasuke's bag from him, then hugs him tightly. "How long have you been in town?"

"Only a few hours," he says, looking at the baby. He stopped to see Naruto first.

"I'm working today, I have to leave in about an hour. Uh, Salad is with her grandfather." Sasuke glances back at her, and Sakura looks uncertain but excited, happy. "You can go over and see her, I guess, or… we'll all be back tonight, maybe we could have dinner?"

Sasuke blinks but finds himself nodding.

He was ready to see his daughter, but he realizes-- somehow it didn't occur to him-- that she will also see him. He doesn't know what two-year-olds are capable of processing. The thought of sitting at a dinner table with his estranged toddler is more intimidating than the thought of looking at her, seeing his dark hair and Sakura's eyes, watching her stumble awkwardly across the floor on her fat legs.

He turns and looks back at the tiny person in the playpen. He points. "What is this?"

"That's a baby, Sasuke," says Sakura, smiling. "Konoha is now a mass producer of them."

It has dark hair and round eyes-- rounder than his or Sakura's-- with skin is a shade darker. It is wrapped in a green onesie.

"Why is it here?"

She takes pity on him. "This is my baby. His name is Aki."

Sasuke looks up at Sakura, staring for a long minute.

"Rock Lee?"

Sakura nods, smile tilting wryly.

Sasuke feels his eyebrows drawing together.

It feels wrong for his family tree to mix with Rock Lee's family tree. The Uchiha clan is an ancient and powerful shinobi line, and Rock Lee is a weirdo who can't do ninjutsu. He is no one. And there's no reason why Sakura should feel desperate enough to sleep with Rock Lee.

"Why? Doesn't Konoha have a surfeit of orphans?"

A dangerous anger flashes in Sakura's face, but she smothers it.

"Thank you for your opinion, Sasuke-kun. I'll give it all the consideration it deserves."

Sasuke shakes his head, heedless. "Will this threaten Salad's inheritance?"

Sakura mouth pinches. "I don't know the inheritance laws, but you're welcome to look into it, if you're concerned." Her hand tightens where it rests on the back of the sofa.

Sasuke's mouth curls. "Is your plan to have everyone's baby?"

Sakura's face goes red to the roots of her hair, and she snarls, "Oh, fuck you." Her hand clenches, and something in the sofa breaks with a loud snap. The baby jumps, spitting out the plastic ring, and starts to cry.

Sakura makes an irritated sound in her throat, possibly at Sasuke, possibly at herself, and picks up the baby.

She cradles the tiny body against her chest, bouncing it, and Sasuke is suddenly reminded painfully, viscerally, of his own mother. Sakura is frowning but still bouncing, probably with years of practice, a genius of soothing. Sasuke realizes that she probably held their baby like that.

"Fuck you," she says again, lowly, bending her face into the infant's dark hair. "You can't just come back to Konoha and do this."

After a long moment, Sasuke says, "I'm sorry."

"Nobody begrudges you the path that you've chosen, _Buddha_ , so don't fucking come here and judge my decisions."

Sasuke nods slowly. He always fails to repay Sakura's kindness. "I'm sorry." Then, hearing the insufficiency of that, he adds, "I was surprised."  

Sakura lets out a breath. She nods, looking down at the baby's dark, tousled head, and the tension goes out of her in increments. Sasuke believes she knows that part of the impetus for his journeys into the world, toward resolution, is that he is an emotional idiot.

As she rocks the baby, he notices, she shifts her weight minutely from foot to foot, almost swaying. Sasuke can't imagine why babies would like that, but he remembers his own mother quieting babies the same way.

"Why Rock Lee?" he asks.

Sakura's mouth twists. The expression is part wistful, part self-conscious, part irritated with Sasuke for asking.

"It was nice to be the one pursued, I guess. Lee is an amazing person. And frankly--" Her mouth curls further into a smile. "Consider this my official endorsement of taijutsu masters." Her gaze flicks to Sasuke's. "No offense."

Sasuke's eyes narrow, but he figures he earned that.

He watches them-- the hypnotic rocking, the contemplative mother, the now-docile green bundle on her arms, chewing pacifically on its hand. After a few minutes, he says, "Do you need to get ready for work?"

Sakura sighs, reaching up to smooth the baby's dark hair. "Yeah."

Sasuke nods to the infant. "Can I hold it?"

Sakura looks over at him, surprised. Her motion slows, though she doesn't stop bouncing. "Oh. Yes, of course. Uh--" She shifts her grip on the bundle, preparing to hand it to Sasuke.

"Wait," Sasuke says, "Keeping doing that." He activates his Sharingan.

Sakura bursts out laughing, and the baby startles all over again. But she keeps rocking, turning incrementally to give Sasuke a comprehensive view.

She is still laughing when she hands over the crying baby.

They improvise a one-armed hold; Sasuke leans back slightly so that part of the baby's weight falls on his chest; his arm spans the baby's back, its padded bottom tucked into the crook of his elbow, his hand cradling the back of its head. He leans its fragile head against his neck. He emulates Sakura's gentle bobbing.

"Oh my god," says Sakura, "please stay there for a minute." She runs out of the room, and Sasuke feels a jolt of panic-- but she returns quickly with a camera.

Sasuke ignores her cooing and picture-taking, and after a moment the baby quiets. It squeezes its wet fists around the neck of Sasuke's shirt.

Rather than excusing herself to get ready for work, Sakura sits down in a chair and looks up at the two dark-haired boys, watching them trace a slow circle across the floor.  Several minutes pass. 

Sasuke says, "Is this what you wanted?" 

His voice is pitched low so he doesn't startle the baby.

Sakura smiles, face shining with mirth and warmth. "Sasuke," she says, shaking her head. "It would never have occurred to me in a million years to want this."

 

\--

Outside of the main house, where Haruno Sakura lives with her two children, most of the Uchicha compound has been converted into hospice rooms and spaces for long-term care. There are noren decorated with cherry blossoms hanging in all the windows. Even downsized, the campus is too much room for three people. Or four people. Sasuke isn't sure what the situation with Lee is, or if there are others.

One of the old houses was torn down (or never rebuilt), and the space has been replaced with a large garden. Sasuke wanders around while Sakura is at work, and he is surprised to discover in the middle a memorial. It is a large grey stone with the Uchiha crest at the top. At the base of the stone is a plaque that summarizes the Uchiha Massacre. It doesn't mention his name, or Itachi's name, but it lists the names of the village elders who authorized the slaughter. Sasuke touches his fingers to the year, reaching out as from a great distance, or through water.

Hours later, Sakura comes home with two children in tow and a grocery sack over one shoulder. A dark-haired toddler runs ahead of her, holding a box of instant rice.

Sakura is on the veranda undoing the wards on the door when she sees Sasuke standing near the path the leads behind the house.

"Oh," she says, turning. Aki is asleep on her shoulder. Sasuke doesn't know if it's normal for a baby to sleep so much. "Hey, Sasuke-kun! We're home early."

Sasuke walks toward them, and Salad looks up. She has a round face with eyes like Sakura's, only darker. Her black hair stands up in the back, and it does actually look vaguely duck-like. She puts down her box of rice and faces Sasuke, and Sasuke wonders if she has genius Uchiha ninja instincts.

"Salad," Sakura says, "This is Uchiha Sasuke. Can you say hello?"

"Hello," murmurs the girl, and she bows, bracing her chubby hands on her knees to steady herself.

Sasuke returns the bow. "Hello."

He doesn't know if she understands enough to recognize the surname or connect it to her own-- but Sakura simply puts a hand on Sasuke's shoulder and says, "Sasuke is your father, like Lee-ojisan is Aki's father, so you should call him _papa_."

Sasuke's eyes widen.

"He's here for a visit," Sakura explains, "And we're going to have dinner. Take Papa out back and get Mama some shiso."

Salad nods. She walks past Sasuke on the path, and Sasuke turns to follow her. Her body is impossibly small. He doesn't know if he should expect her to fall down, or cry, or run away and get lost. She does none of those-- she just follows the path to an offshoot of the garden, a long stretch of herbs, and toddles unerringly to the shiso. She squats and begins pulling leaves gracelessly off of their stalks. When her tiny fists are full, which is almost immediately, she looks up at Sasuke. Her face is watchful-- she looks strangely pensive for a toddler.

She says, "What's your name again?"

It takes a moment for Sasuke to figure out what she's said; the sounds of her words run together. He knows from Sakura's and Naruto's letters that she has been talking for about nine months, but she needs further training.

Sasuke hesitates, then says, "Papa."

"Papa," she says. She holds out her tiny fists to him. He stoops and cups his right hand beneath her gathered fists, and she scowls. "Both hands," she says irritably, like he's too stupid to know how this works. A corner of Sasuke's mouth turns up.

He bats at his empty left sleeve, which hangs loose to the elbow, where it's tied. Then he holds up his right hand. "Only one," he says.

She looks at it consideringly for a moment, then nods. Sasuke places his hand under her fists and she drops the shiso into it, though most of the crumpled leaves stick to her. Sasuke patiently waits while Salad pulls the leaves off her hands, one by one, and places them in Sasuke's palm, scowling in concentration. He wonders if all children's hands are wet, or if it's only Sakura's children.

Then, together, they make their way back to the front of the house, inside to the kitchen. Sasuke deposits the herbs on the counter. Aki is back in his playpen, burbling and knocking wooden blocks together, and Sakura is measuring out water into a saucepan. "Thanks, guys," she says.

Salad pulls a chair out from the small kitchen table and climbs into it. "Papa only has one hand," she observes.

Sakura shoots an amused glance over her shoulder at Sasuke, who likewise pulls out a chair and sits.

"Yes, but he's still a very powerful ninja."

Salad looks over at him, again with the expression of watchfulness. She says, "Like 'jisan?"

"Like Naruto-ojisan, yes. Speaking of which--" Sasuke looks up from Salad's assessing gaze. "Naruto's working with his genin team today, but when he's done he's going to pick up Bolt and drop by."

"Bolt is coming?" says Salad, kicking her legs. Sakura nods and puts a sippy cup of water in front of her.

"Are they friends?" asks Sasuke.

"Yeah," says Sakura, grinning. "Ino is convinced they're going to get married."

Sasuke snorts. Sakura hands him a glass of water. His mouth twists, but it's not quite a smile.

 

\--

 

After dinner, Sakura cleans up while Sasuke sits on the couch and watches Salad try to push knit slippers onto Aki's feet. The task is probably impossible, between Salad's lack of developed motor skills and Aki's kicking feet, but she seems remarkably good at responding to obstacles. She is definitely a genius.

Suddenly, the door flies open, a voice yells, "Hey!" and a small Naruto runs into the living room. An aggrieved, adult Naruto appears in the foyer behind him. "You should knock first! Where are your manners?"

Naruto locks eyes with Sasuke just before the little boy pushes him backward, through the foyer and back out onto the veranda. They hear the door close, then a slow, deliberate knock at the door.

Sasuke looks over his shoulder at Sakura, who is elbow-deep in soapy water. She shakes her head, grinning.

Sasuke rises and opens the door. He looks down at a little boy with whisker marks along his cheeks and says, "Can I help you?"

But then Salad is there, tugging the door open. "They're friends!" she cries. "We know them!"

Sasuke looks up at the boy's father, who is grinning back at him with the wattage of one hundred suns.

Sasuke steps back with a quiet smile of his own. Salad grabs Bolt's arm and tries to pull him into the living room, toward Aki and the sock problem, but Naruto says, "Uh, wait, guys--" He kneels down in the foyer, eye level with the young boy, and says, "Bolt, I want you to meet somebody very special. This is my best friend, Uchiha Sasuke."

Bolt looks up at Sasuke. His eyes are blue and gigantic, and his blond hair is a mess.

"Are you a ninja?" he asks. He has the same speech afflictions as Sasuke's daughter.

"Yes."

"Are you strong?"

"Yes."

"Are you stronger than my dad?"

 Sasuke smirks at Naruto. Naruto's mouth twists ruefully, looking back up into Sasuke's face. He says, "Debatable."

"What?" says Bolt, but then Salad jerks on his arm, pulling him impatiently away, explaining about Aki's feet.

"Bolt!" Naruto complains, "Your shoes!"

 

\--

 

It's easy to see Naruto as a father-- something he told Naruto repeatedly when his wife was expecting. He's pretty much a kid himself, and any child he meets immediately loves him. As with most adults, his exuberance brings them in.

Naruto is 100% fun, if you're a two-year-old-- but unfortunately that also makes him a terrible disciplinarian, and the awareness of that makes him a nervous disciplinarian. He hovers, a little, unless Sakura is able to demonstrate that she is in control of the situation. Fortunately, Sakura is very good at demonstrating control over a situation.

She sits on the sofa on one side of Sasuke, opposite Naruto, half-watching the children devise a complicated game with chair cushions. She uses her foot to rock Aki to sleep in his portable carriage.

"Are babies supposed to sleep that much?" Sasuke asks, nodding at the baby. He is sitting between his two oldest friends, holding a cup of tea.

Naruto and Sakura both look at Aki's placid face, but rather than concerned, they look wistful.

"Aki is such a good baby," Sakura says. "Salad wouldn't sleep for more than three hours at a time at that age."

Naruto nods. His arm is thrown over the back of the couch behind Sasuke, turned towards the other man, and his leg is drawn up, halfway underneath him. He looks larger than he ever has, in a way-- leaner but taller, more serious, more focused, a little more exhausted.

"Bolt would sleep for a long time," he says, "but you never knew when. He'd fall asleep at five in the afternoon, then he'd be awake at two in the morning, and if you weren't walking around with him, he was screaming his head off."

This reminds Sakura, and she leans back against the couch, hand over her face. "Naruto," she says, "Sasuke copied baby-holding from me with his Sharingan."

Naruto glances from Sakura to Sasuke's impassive face, then laughs at that with his whole chest.

 

\--

 

By the time the sun sets, Aki is in bed, and the grown-ups are all standing on the veranda of Sasuke's childhood home. Naruto and Sakura are holding beers, and Sasuke is leaned against a beam with his arms crossed. They are talking about Kakashi. Four years ago, never in his wildest dreams could Sasuke have predicted this moment.

The front door opens, and Salad comes out. She looks unhappy, but she wanders over to Naruto and holds up her arms, splaying out her dimpled fingers. Naruto smiles and hands his beer bottle to Sasuke. He reaches down and hefts Salad onto his hip. He does a subdued version of the baby bounce, and Salad lays her head on Naruto's shoulder, rubbing disconsolately at her face.

"Time for bed for these guys," he murmurs.

"Noo," says Salad. She pushes her face into Naruto's shoulder. Naruto smiles and looks up, meeting Sasuke's gaze.

"Here," says Naruto, "let's go to Mama. Bolt will be back soon, and you guys can have tons of fun." He hands the small girl to Sakura, who smiles indulgently and wraps her up in her arms, even as Salad protests. She says, "Sasuke-kun, will I see you again before you go?"

Sasuke nods. He realizes the chain of assumptions: Naruto will take Bolt home to be put to bed. Sasuke will walk Naruto home. Sasuke will leave the village soon.

He drains the last of Naruto's beer.

He waits for Naruto on the veranda, and moments later the other man emerges with Bolt on his shoulders. Bolt is already asleep, sloped forward over Naruto's head, like a hat. Sasuke didn't plan to go to Naruto's house, but Naruto has always had a way of re-contexualizing things. Shaking Sasuke's perspective, framing irrational nonsense as foregone conclusions, making commonplaces seem new.

They talk as they walk-- about Konoha, about the Uchiha Massacre memorial that Kakashi had installed, about Naruto's genin team, about Sasuke's recent travels in Lightning Country. They saw each other earlier in the day when Sasuke first got in, but Naruto was training with his students, and they weren't able to do much more than nod in acknowledgment and watch each other.

To Sasuke's surprise-- though in retrospect he should have guessed-- they end up at the Hyuga compound. They have their own house there, Naruto explains. "They run kind of a tight ship, though," he says, grinning ruefully at the ground. "I think it was hard for Hinata growing up here."

"Why don't you move? You have plenty of money."

Sasuke doesn't know it for a fact, but it's almost certainly true-- Hinata would have come with a sizable dowry, and Naruto is a shinobi celebrity who is actively taking missions, so the money must be rolling in.

"Well," says Naruto, shaking his head. "Hinata thinks Kakashi is going to retire in the next couple of years, and then…" He shrugs one shoulder, hands wrapped around his sons small legs. It's bizarre to hear Naruto speaking diffidently about becoming Hokage. Sasuke supposes it was only something to yell about when it wasn't a sure thing.

"Kakashi has mentioned it a couple of times, so she may be right."

"I know," says Naruto. "She usually is. Come in and see her."

"No," Sasuke says simply. They hold gazes for a long time.

"It's good to have you home," Naruto says, at last.

"I can't stay," he says. "I've made some commitments for the next few years." He doesn't bother going into details, although they're not secret. They both know he wouldn't stay anyway.

Naruto nods. "I'm glad you got to meet Salad. She's amazing. She is wicked smart, like you and Sakura."

Sasuke inclines his head his head with a small smile. "Thank you for looking after her. Your son seems very strong."

"He's going to be a handful, all right." After a pause, Naruto adds, "Hinata is pregnant again."

Sasuke's eyes widen. "Congratulations." He's surprised to find that he means it; Naruto finally has family all around him. "Are you going to have time to run a village?"

Naruto huffs a laugh. "I don't know, Sasuke. I really don't." He presses the side of his face against the tiny shoe at his shoulder. He looks up at Sasuke, and he seems heavy with worries, suddenly; more irresolute than Sasuke has ever seen him. They watch each other for another moment.

Naruto sighs. He leans forward and presses a close-mouthed kiss to Sasuke's lips, steadying his sleeping son on his shoulders.

"Write me," he says.

Sasuke nods. "I will."

 

\--

 

After that, Sakura begins to update Sasuke on Aki as well as Salad in her letters. Sasuke begins to send trinkets back for both children. He doesn't know what kids like, but he resigns himself to sending along things clearly meant for children (or Naruto): a small octopus plushie, a set of colored blocks, a book with very short sentences about a bee making friends.

Sasuke begins to receive, in return, a hand-drawn portrait of Salad-- every year, usually in April. He later learns that Sai makes them every year for Sakura's birthday. He watches Salad's face lengthen and thin out, slightly, her hair grow long. She always looks very serious, which might be artistic license on Sai's part but probably isn't. In her five-year-old portrait, she is wearing glasses.

Sasuke returns to the village several times; he tries to not be away for longer than a year at a time, although he ends up in embroiled in several complicated projects.

He learns, or learns to admit, that he likes being part of a team. He likes devising solutions; he likes sitting quietly in a room, listening, while other people talk around him. He finds himself creating those situations. He mostly travels with erstwhile members of Team Hawk, and he starts sleeping with Juugo, off and on, even though (or because) Juugo still mostly sees Kimimaro in him. Sasuke's heart is complicated, but he has resolved to be patient with it. He's given up trying to force it in pre-determined directions. Karin is devastated when she finds out, but Suigetsu thinks the whole situation is hilarious.

At some point, they all turn old enough to purchase alcohol.

Whenever Sasuke returns to the village, he always means to talk to Salad about Itachi. He wants her to know about the Uchiha clan-- their whole history with the village, what Konoha did wrong and right, what Itachi did wrong and right, that tangle of initiatives in which Sasuke is convinced the whole truth of life lies hidden. But every time he sees her, he realizes that there are other, more pressing matters to discuss with her. He teaches her jutsu and talks to her about what to do if her Sharingan awakes while he's out of the village. He teaches her archery. He takes her to the dock and teaches her Katon. They never seem to get around to talking about Sasuke's past. It used to be all Sasuke thought about-- his koan-- but where Salad is concerned it becomes more and more an afterthought.

 

\--

 

During one visit to Konoha, he overhears Sakura through the front door reminding Salad not to ask her father about staying, and Sasuke's heart clenches. He waits on the veranda for several minutes before knocking.

After another pause, Salad opens the door with swollen eyes, but her face is full of surly resolve.

"Can I speak to Mama alone?" he says.

She doesn't like that, but then Sakura is in the doorway, patting Salad's shoulder. "Salad, go get Papa his present, and we’ll be right back."

Sasuke nods to the side of the house. They wander around to the garden, Sasuke with his hands in his pockets, Sakura with her head bowed.

They stop at the memorial, and Sasuke looks uncertainly up at Sakura.

"When Salad graduates from the Academy," he begins, "before she's assigned to a team… If she wanted, she could come with me for a few months, or..."

Then he stops, watching Sakura's stricken face.

"She would go with you in a heartbeat, Sasuke-kun." She shakes her head. "But I can't-- I'm not ready."

"Not now," he says, frowning.

"But soon."

"She would come back," Sasuke says.

Sakura shakes her head. She touches her face, and suddenly there are tears in her eyes. "No, she won't."

"Okay." Sasuke squeezes Sakura's left shoulder. "It's okay, I won't. Don't worry."

Sakura is still shaking her head. A mother's terror. "I'm sorry."

"No," says Sasuke. He squeezes her shoulder again, but then he's out of words. They stand in silence for a moment while Sakura breathes deeply, looking over at the memorial stone. Eventually Sasuke leans forward and kisses her cheek and says, "I'll be back soon."

When they return to the veranda, Salad is sitting with her legs dangling over the side, sulking, holding an envelope, which she holds out to her father.

Sasuke takes it-- it's Salad's seven-year-old portrait.

"Salad loves sitting for Sai-ojisan," says Sakura, grinning. She doesn't look like she was just crying. "Don't you, Salad?"

Salad rolls her eyes. "No."

"But sitting still for a long time is good practice for being a shinobi, isn't it?"

"Yes," Salad says reluctantly, eyes narrowing. Sakura laughs.

"Okay, I'm going to leave you guys alone." She reaches up and gives Sasuke a long hug, and he kisses her again on the cheek. "See you soon," she says, then she goes back into the house.

Sasuke moves to stand in the yard in front of Salad so that she is eye-level with his chest. She looks up at him with her serious face and asks, "Will you write to me?" Her voice is neutral in a way that belies her age.

Sasuke nods.

He asks, "Will you work hard in school and practice the jutsus I showed you?" Salad nods.

Sasuke bends close. She is a small, strange miracle that he doesn't know how to incorporate into his life. He is a destabilizing force-- he brings questions, and difficulties, and complications. He still doesn't know how to be a father.

"I love you," he says truthfully. He presses two gentle fingers to her forehead.  


	2. SAKURA

Right after the war, Sakura accompanies Tsunade to the Fire Country capital. It's an unfriendly affair.

The civilian government has always been deeply uncomfortable with alliances between hidden villages. Twenty-two years ago, the daimyo of Lightning Country issued a proclamation forbidding marriages between hidden villages; Kumogakure ignored the proclamation and legally acknowledged at least three unions before the proclamation was rescinded, but the Kage was executed after his retirement, at the age of seventy-two, for treason.

It has always been a delicate arrangement, whole nations meeting at three points: the shinobi, the state and the millions of hapless members of the bourgeoisie and peasant classes.

Now, with the advent of the Shinobi Alliance, the position of the state has become infinitely worse. If the Wind Daimyo declared war against the Fire Daimyo today, absolutely nothing would happen. Heads would roll, but not shinobi heads. Gaara would never in a hundred years move against Konoha. Sakura knows it like she knows her own mind.

Meanwhile, trade disputes continue to happen; border disputes continue to happen. The governments of the five great nations have no choice but to begin to strengthen their own nascent armies.

Change is coming.

For Sakura, that's one solace to Sasuke's refusal to re-enter Konoha permanently. He is building networks and knowledges outside of the Hidden Village system; he is _diversifying_. His existence outside of Konoha makes it more likely that his loved ones will survive when the structure eventually breaks.

The Fire Daimyo keeps Tsunade waiting around his palace for two days before he will see her, just to prove he can. They are attended in the meantime by an assistant to the Daimyo, who, upon being introduced to Sakura, says, "Will this be your replacement?" He looks at her assessingly, a muted challenge in his face.

She gazes back at him, surprised.

"As Hokage, you mean?" says Tsunade.

Sakura glances at Tsunade, who stares at Sakura for a long moment. She has always been so in love with Naruto's ambitions, she would never have considered anyone else from their generation for the job. Now that the official is asking, though, it makes sense: Sakura can do nearly everything that Tsunade can do, except hold her liquor and lose so consistently at pachinko. Sakura has no desire to be Hokage; having watched Tsunade, she would never do that to Naruto, and she would never do that to _herself_. But her heart clenches, in love, of a sort, when Tsunade smiles and says, "Maybe."

 

\--

 

Instead, Sakura becomes assistant to the Rokudaime.

She already knows everything about the position, and Sakura has a way of keeping Kakashi flexible. Kakashi has always been mercurial, vacillating between warmth and coldness, open and closed off, sometimes without warning. Now that he is responsible for so much, including the dignity of the office-- entrusted to him by Obito, no less-- and constantly surrounded by people, he pulls inward with greater frequency and volatility.

Sakura's presence mitigates that. She affects civility and neutrality better than anyone on the planet, but Kakashi knows better than that-- her empathy, her boiling temper, her sadness. Her likes, dislikes and ambitions. He looks at her sometimes with unspeakable fondness.

When she is three months pregnant, she invites Kakashi forcibly to lunch with her. Sitting across from him, away from the noise of the office, she explains that she is carrying Sasuke's baby, and why, and that she hasn't said anything to Naruto yet.

He watches her with kind eyes. He says that there aren't many resources for single mothers in the village but that he'll support her in any way he can. He says Naruto will understand. He asks when she'll be gone from the office and for how long. She tells him three months and apologizes-- but he shakes his head and says that he can't think of a more important mission than this.

A few days later, Kakashi shows up at her apartment with his hands in his pockets.

Sakura is slowly moving her belongings to the Uchiha house, so the apartment is littered with unpacked and half-packed boxes, bags of scrolls, looming towers of books. There are unopened boxes of baby items. Kakashi leans against the door jamb and looks at her.

"Do you need help?" he asks quietly, and Sakura knows he isn't talking about the move. This is the Rokudaime Hokage proposing marriage.

She smiles, heart full of love. "I think I've got this."

 

\--

 

There are nearly a dozen people there-- not in the room, but in the antechamber-- when Sakura delivers her first baby. Tsunade comes back to Konoha to oversee, and Shizune is with her, and almost all of Sakura's important people are around her.

She didn't expect childbirth to feel as much like battle as it does. Everyone is always so _precious_ about it, even other mothers. Afterwards, she lies back on the birthing table, huffing breaths as they clean the baby somewhere out of her line of vision. Ino pushes her sweaty hair out of her face, and Sakura can feel the torn skin below her waist, her burst veins, her wrecked chakra.

"Thank you for being here," Sakura says weakly.

Ino laughs gently. "Of course I am. I wish you'd been there instead of Sai, actually. He just stood there narrating and making disgusted faces." She grins. "Men are such babies when it comes to this stuff."

"Yeah," says Sakura, smiling, though she knows it's not true. She helped deliver Naruto's son, and the whole time Naruto sat grim-faced next to Hinata as she clenched her teeth and arched her neck-- wiping her hair out of her face, telling her she was beautiful and strong.

Suddenly, she hears a sharp whine, then crying, and Tsunade comes back into view. She's smiling.

"It's a girl," she says.

"Oh, my god," Sakura says. She wraps her arms carefully around the squalling bundle as Tsunade guides her limbs. It doesn't seem possible. She looks up at Ino, who returns her look of wonder with a wide smile.

"Look," says Sakura weakly.

"I know. They look so weird, don't they?" Sakura's daughter is a red, angry mass of wrinkles. "She's definitely got your forehead."

Sakura laughs, a single, exhausted bark of surprised joy.

 

\--

 

Sakura's first visitor is her father. He walks in to see Sakura smiling tiredly, Ino beside her, squalling baby in her arms, and he immediately begins to cry.

He holds a hand to his wan face and says, "You look like your mother."

Ino touches his arm, and he pulls her in for a long hug; Kizashi began to pay special attention to Ino after her own father died, and they both pull away from the embrace with tears in their eyes, looking down at Sakura and her own wet eyes.

Sakura tilts up the bundle in her arms with a watery smile. "Look, it's jiichan."

Kizashi touches the fabric at the baby's chin, pulling it away from her red face. Sakura expects he is disappointed that the baby doesn't look more like her, but he smiles lovingly. He looks back up at Sakura's face and says, "She has your eyes."

He stays for a few minutes after that, asking about her comfort, if she's okay, if she's hungry, if she needs extra blankets. Then he says, "I should go so someone else can come in." Tsunade is only letting in one or two people at a time. Kizashi's eyes go misty again, squeezing Sakura's hand. "There are so many people here."

Naruto and Hinata come in next; they crowd around Sakura and her baby. "She's beautiful," says Hinata, smiling, and Sakura gazes gratefully up at her.

"Hinata's just being nice," Naruto clarifies, face shining with delight. He points to the wild dark scruff on the baby's head. "She looks like a big weirdo. And I'm sorry, Sakura-chan, I think she got Sasuke's hair."

The baby begins to nudge its head sideways against Sakura's hospital gown, furious. Her clenched fists shake against the fabric of her thin blanket.

"But I think she got your temper."

"She's hungry," Hinata says.

Hinata and Ino help Sakura open her gown; they help Sakura guide the baby to her breast, situating Sakura's wrists and shoulders, positioning the fabric, as her newborn daughter latches on to her nipple. Sakura thinks some people would have been embarrassed, but Naruto watches, eyes wide with wonder.

After a moment, belatedly, he asks, "What are you gonna call her? Sasuko?"

Sakura smirks faintly and touches her fingers to the dark fuzz on the baby's head.

"I'm going to name her Salad," she says tenderly.

"Oh," says Ino, pushing Sakura's hair away from her face. "Do you hate her?"

 

\--

 

The next day, Kakashi visits with Kurenai. "Saa, Sakura," he says indolently. "Tsunade-senpai says I'm not allowed to tell you to come back to work." He places a small doll in the crook of Sakura's arm opposite from Salad. It's a miniature version of Naruto's Kakashi plushie.

Sakura grins. "Don't you make the rules now?" Kakashi's eyes curve into crescents, and he ruffles her already-unkempt hair.

"Well, let's see it," he says.

Sakura carefully nudges the blankets around Salad to reveal a pink face and a shock of black hair. "I named her Salad."

Kakashi nods. "Very good."

"Look, Salad, the Hokage is here to see you!" Sakura touches the Kakashi doll to Salad's face. "You must be very important."

Salad wriggles a little and spits up. Kakashi huffs a laugh.

"I get that a lot."

Kurenai asks to hold her, and she lifts her out of Sakura's proffered arms with practiced grace. She slides her pale arms along Sakura's, into her embrace, dark hair falling onto Sakura's shoulder. She shifts her hand up along Sakura's breast to cup the baby's head and thinks nothing of it. Salad begins to squall.

Kakashi takes several steps back, alarmed.

"Fussy little kunoichi we have here," Kurenai coos.

She tucks Salad into her arm and begins to bounce; Salad's hands flail, and Kurenai holds out a finger for her to grasp. "Babies are way too small," she says.

Kakashi moves further away from Kurenai and the baby, as though he's afraid of being asked to hold her, or afraid that Kurenai will throw her at him.

"I was thinking the same thing, but you should be used to it."

Kurenai and Hinata could rarely be found apart during Hinata's pregnancy, and since Bolt's birth she's become all but a third parent. There are currently lots in babies in Konoha for Kuenrai to be around.

"No," she says, peering into Salad's scrunched, angry face. "No, you never get used to it."

 

\--

 

The last person to visit Sakura before she's discharged is Rock Lee. He brings flowers. Salad is sleeping in a crib nearby, so she takes them: a bouquet of lilies surrounded by purple kale and accented with two short, thin stalks of cherry blossoms. They smell wonderful.

He says, "Ino-san helped me pick them out."

"She's a show-off," she murmurs, smiling, "But they're beautiful. Thank you, Lee-san."

Lee pulls a chair up next to Sakura's hospital bed. Sakura doesn't usually see him in anything but training clothes or his jounin uniform, but now he's wearing simple trousers and a dark brown sweater with the cuffs pushed up his forearms. His hands are unbandaged, and his knuckles and what she can see of his arms are criss-crossed with faint scars, x's of paleness against the tan skin.

"How are you feeling?" he asks.

"Good," Sakura says, and they exchange pleasantries for a while. While Sakura talks, Lee's face shifts between expressions of softness as he's listens -- news about Salad, about the hospital, about Tsunade, about Sakura's recent move across town-- to a shuttered look as if he is holding many things back.

Eventually, after a short silence falls, Lee says, "I'm sorry Sasuke-san couldn't be here." His eyes flick downward at the word _couldn't_ , bending his head to hide the flash of disapproval.

"I'm fine," she says. She can feel the warmth from the impossibly small body along her chest, the bundle expanding minutely with each tiny breath. She thinks of the dozens of people who have visited her over the last two days.

Lee smiles tightly and nods, but then his mouth shifts. He puts his bare hand on the edge of the bed and looks at it. His thick eyebrows draw low, and he says, "I would marry you in a heartbeat."

She looks at his face while he stares down at his hand. His face is a strange play of emotions-- there's anger there, but she's fairly certain it's not directed at her. It's the same look that Naruto used to get, all those years ago, when he would talk about bringing Sasuke home. Worry, sadness, longing, but mostly resolve. Lee's eyes flick up to her. He is immaculately courteous but brave.

She reaches out and put her hand on Lee's. "I'm already married." Lee's already large eyes go round with surprise. Sakura smiles and says, "But maybe we could get dinner."

 

\--

 

The final person to come see Sakura visits a year and a half later-- when Sakura is seven months pregnant with Aki, walking the path from the Hokage's office after a long shift. She hears a voice call, "Sakura-san!"

A giant shape drops to the ground near her. It's Inuzuka Tsume, Kiba's mother; she slides to the ground from the back of her dog.

"Good afternoon," says Sakura. She raises her eyebrows questioningly.

Tsume nods. "How are you?" she asks. She nods at Sakura's stomach.

"Good," Sakura says.

She has never talked to this woman before.

Tsume looks from Sakura's swollen belly up to her politely neutral face. "Has anyone said anything to you?"

Sakura blinks.

"Disrespectful," Tsume clarifies.

The tips of her canine teeth are visible again her lower lip.

"No," Sakura says, though she would probably lie if they had. "No, everybody's been really supportive."

Tsume nods and turns to leave. "Let me know."

 

\--

 

One day, Sakura is sitting with Naruto on a park bench outside the administrative offices, and he says, "Do you hate Sasuke?" Naruto has just returned from a mission, and Sakura is on her lunch break. They're sharing cup ramen, passing it wearily between them.

Sakura grimaces. "After everything that happened, you think Sasuke traveling the world is going to make me hate him?" She looks sideways at Naruto. "Do you hate him?"

"No, but it's different." Naruto looks at the pavement and rubs at the back of his neck. He's twenty-three, and he has already begun to feel the guilt that will grow-- the weight of his own finitude, the complications, the inevitable compromises. "He should be here for you."

Sakura shrugs. "The Buddha was an absentee father."

Naruto snorts. "Sasuke isn't Buddha."

"No, I guess not," she says. She smiles at Naruto, who loves Sasuke as much as she does-- more so, probably, at this point; her two crazy boys who are still unresolved with each other, who are still unfolding. She touches Naruto's solid, warm back. "Not yet."

 

\--

 

And her children grow like plants in time-lapse recordings.

Kakashi wasn't lying when he said there were few resources for single parents in the village, but Sakura is a war hero and celebrated medical scholar, a primary advisor to the Rokudaime, a former advisor to the Yodaime of the legendary Sannin, and she makes some changes.

To begin, she installs rooms for childcare in the hospital and administrative offices-- so that she can take care of her children _and_ Kakashi-- and she opens two positions for childcare providers that are funded by the village. She routes funding to projects offering food, shelter and clothes for the families of single parents. She changes some of the shifts of the administrative positions, adds more part-time positions, so that parents can work while their children are in school, and one of the new positions is responsible for auditing the quality of care at local orphanages.

As soon as her children have enough coordination to walk a thin, straight line for ten feet without falling over, Sakura begins to teach them about chakra. She ritualizes the test, which the kids enjoy. Just for fun she adds a few other obstacles, like running across the room holding a piece of carrot in their toes and drinking from the far side of a cup.

When Salad is nearly four, Sakura sits down across from her, cross-legged in the yard. Salad looks serious, but the only time she doesn't look serious is when she laughs. Sakura has nearly one hundred photos of Salad in the bath with her black hair sticking straight up in a soapy mohawk, holding a plastic duck or boat, looking into the eye of the camera with solemnity.

"Okay," Sakura says, "Lift up your arm."

Salad lifts her left arm.

"Now, _think_ about lifting your left arm but don't do it." To a child these directions make sense, so Salad does it, staring curiously at her mother. "Do you feel a tickle inside your arm? Or like you suddenly want to jump up and run around?"

Salad frowns and repeats the gesture; Sakura knows because her gaze turns inward, staring into the middle distance, and her arm twitches faintly. After a moment, she looks back at her mother and nods. Sakura's face breaks into a wide grin.

It takes Aki a lot longer to feel his chakra, probably because he doesn't and never will have as much chakra as Salad does. The fact will sting him, when he's older. Sakura tries to soften it by emphasizing the age difference between the two, slight as it is-- she makes Salad promise to always watch out for her younger brother; to set an example for her younger brother; to perform her duties as the eldest and exercise wisdom for her younger brother. It's made easier by the fact that Salad seems to be more naturally given to stillness and solemnity than her brother-- who slips seamlessly into the partner position of good humor and goofy exuberance.

Sakura teaches them both the yin seal.

There are four places on the body that are receptive to the yin seal-- the Om chakra point, on the forehead; the Ram chakra point, on the abdomen; and on the palms of either hand-- but Sakura decides that someplace unobtrusive is best, and they can choose to reveal its existence, or not, as they grow older.

When Salad is five, she and Sakura begin their bedtime ritual; after her bath, Salad lies back in bed, and Sakura places a small, flat stone in the hollow of her ribcage. Salad concentrates her chakra on that spot while Sakura sings her a lullaby. By the time she's eight, a tiny diamond has appeared there.

At various times, the kids both complain about the bedtime ritual-- particularly Aki, who is terribly difficult to put to bed, who never likes to lie down until he's actual unconscious. But Sakura asks both of them, when they fuss, if they want to grow up to be powerful like their mother, and they both say yes. The first time she says it, it's the first time in her life she has ever referred to herself as powerful.

 

\--

 

Sasuke visits every two years on average, and he writes five or six times a year. His letters are mostly responses to _their_ letters, but sometimes he volunteers news. Sometimes he sees something or someplace that has especially impressed him, and he describes it in sparse but well-chosen words.

When Salad is three, she draws Sasuke a picture of herself, Sakura and Aki in front of their house. It's an indecipherable mass of pink and blue scribbles, but Sakura labels it for him. Naruto intercepts the drawing before it gets mailed and adds himself to the picture, standing on the roof of the house. There are lines of awesome shooting out of his body. At the last minute, Sakura adds a tree in the background, and Kakashi sitting on a limb of the tree. She makes a dot with an orange crayon to represent Kakashi's book.

Two months later, to everyone's astonishment, they get a drawing in return. It's an ink sketch of Sasuke standing next to a big rectangle with rounded corners, with water in front and mountains in the background. It's labeled _Land of Spring_.

The drawing is highly stylized but actually pretty good. Naruto shakes his head, mouth twisted, and says, "Fucking Sasuke," but he asks if he can have it.

They all become better and better at navigating strange emotional arrangements.

During one visit, Sakura organizes a big dinner for the two families-- Naruto's and theirs, including Lee-- and Sakura is telling Sasuke about Temüjin, the barbecue restaurant that just opened in a newer sector of the village. Sasuke nods wordlessly while she talks. Then he puts his elbow on the table and lets his head sink into it. He scrubs his hand through his hair.

It says something that Sasuke lets her see it, and for that Sakura walks over and puts her hands on his shoulders.

"You've seen worse, Sasuke-kun," she says, squeezing. He looks over his shoulder at her. He really is breathtakingly handsome. He says wryly, "You would think."

But that evening they all sit around a booth at Temüjin with Sakura on a chair pulled up at the end of the booth. Naruto and Hinata box in their two little ones, and Sasuke and Lee box in Salad and Aki. There's actually very little opportunity for awkwardness. Pleasantries and superficial updates are exchanged, but mostly the whole evening is each child monopolizing her or his respective grown-up, and Sakura lets the sound wash over her, smiling.

Afterwards, they all walk home from the restaurant, even though it's a lot further than it used to be walking home from Ichiraku or Yakiniku.

Lee carries _all_ the children, except for Salad, who walks with her father, small hand in his.

Naruto walks between Hinata and Sakura, his arms draped over them.

They walk tucked into their separate conversations until, in the lower level of Konoha-- now referred to as the Old Village or the Clan Quarter-- they spot Kakashi and Gai coming out of a bar.

Lee runs up to Gai, and Gai laughs and issues himself a challenge to surpass his amazing former pupil.

He picks up Lee, who is still holding the three children. After a few minutes of delighted yelps, Salad pulls away from her father and joins the fray, unable to contain herself, climbing the mountain of green spandex and sprawling limbs with a triumphant smirk.

"I challenge you to surpass me, Eternal Rival!" Gai yells to Kakashi, who lingers uneasily nearby with his hands in his pockets. Kakashi is the first Hokage since Senju Tobirama to not like children. He tolerates them with the best grace, but they clearly make him unhappy.

"You want me to pick up the parents?" he says.

Naruto pumps his fist and says, "Yeah! You could do it, Kaka-sensei!!"

Laughing, Sakura glances at Sasuke, who watches the shenanigans unfold with an expression that reminds her of his wry one from earlier in the day.

There's pride (probably at Salad, who reaches the top of the pile and sits on Bolt's back), bewilderment, faint amusement and sadness.

Sometimes Sakura feels her happiness with an acuteness that is almost painful. Sometimes she thinks wistfully about Sasuke-- his handsome face, growing more open every she sees him, after two years of doing who knows what with who knows whom.

Sometimes Sakura will wake up in the night and go to get a glass of water or a snack from the kitchen, and she will pass the formal dining room that she and the kids never eat in. It's filled with toys and some medical equipment for the hospices; it was fully furnished by the builders when Sasuke had the compound repaired, but the large table is pushed against a wall and covered with a plastic sheet, and sometimes the kids do art there.

Sakura will step into the dark room and know that this is where Sasuke's parents were killed.

She can imagine Sasuke bending over their bodies; the moment when everything changed. The originary moment of departure.

She has two competing visions of happiness:

The first is a spiral spreading outward from Konoha-- from Sakura's home with her beautiful, weird children and friends. Sakura and her loved ones circle a troubled world, buffeted by chaos, but return endlessly to this place of peace.

The second is also a spiral spreading outward: there is joy, pleasure, laughter all around, and there is darkness in the middle.

 

\--

 

Salad's Sharingan awaken early. She was in the middle of a spar at school, Sakura learns, when she dodged a series of quick kicks and then fell back, gasping, then hyperventilating, arms wrapped over her face. A teacher at the Academy brings her home, leading her by the hand, with a sash to obstruct her eyesight wrapped loosely around her head.

She cries, though she tries not to, lying on the sofa with her head in Sakura's lap.

Sakura rests a hand over her closed eyes, reaching out with her own chakra to soothe the stressed chakra coils. "Shhh," she says, rocking her nine-year-old like a baby.

After a few minutes, Salad quiets. She pushes her mother's hand away and touches her own closed eyelids. "Dad showed me what to do," she says, voice shaky. Salad dropped the name Papa when her classmates did, though Sakura knows she still addresses her letters to Sasuke that way. "I have to try and use just one eye at a time. And I have to try to focus on just small things first."

"Okay," says Sakura. "Do you want to write a letter to Dad and let him know? I can write it down if you tell me what to say."

There's a long pause, and she expects Salad to wipe her eyes and nod-- but then Salad turns onto her side, burying her face in her mother's stomach, and her tears return in force. "I want Dad," she chokes out, and she cries like her heart is breaking.

Sakura cradles her, running her fingers through the dark hair. It is hard to believe that her whole body was once the size that her head and shoulders are now. "Baby, my little baby," she says, "I'm so sorry."

She doesn't know where Sasuke is, and the truth is that she never has any assurance Sasuke won't die somewhere in the wilderness. He could be dead now. Even if he's not, it could take him months to return. Or it could be only a few days. Sakura arranged this situation nine years ago, with an absolute sense of what she owed herself, but how can she regret it?

These are the irrevocable, unrecoverable griefs that parents make for their children.

Possibly all parents, and definitely all children.

After a while, Salad sits up and rubs at her strained, aching eyes. She takes a deep breath and sits still, and Sakura knows her sharp mind is working through its thoughts, its resolutions, its fear and anger.

There is nothing for Sakura to tell her. Will she grow up and have to learn, like her father had to learn, how to live without hate? Sakura thinks of the lullaby she used to sing to Salad and Aki (sometimes still to Aki, who asks for it), sitting in a darkened bedroom-- the same traditional song Sakura's mother used to sing to her-- _Even though it's scary, go down the path, go down the path._

She realizes that there are a thousand things in Salad's life that she won't be able to disrupt-- just as Sakura's father was not able to disrupt a thousand things in hers.

It makes her feel terrified even, just the thought of someone undoing the things that have happened in Sakura's life, even the mistakes. If Sasuke had never left the village, if Itachi hadn't slain their parents, if Sakura had gone straight to Lee instead of taking the winding road. She thinks of Obito's Infinite Tsukuyomi dream world and shudders. She would leave the pool of her life just as it is, the surface of the water undisturbed, the giant sky above it, the rocky depths beneath. All of it.


End file.
